#whyistayed… I stayed for two years after the first time he put his hands on me. I think I originally stayed because at first, the incidents were far in between. It wasn’t as if he beat me up on a daily basis. We argued A LOT, but they times they turned physical weren’t that often. It was a simple push or grab here or there. Oh yeah, then there was that one time that he slammed my wrist in the door when I was trying to leave and fractured it, but he acted so nonchalant and normal afterward that, had I not been wearing the ace bandage, I would have never known it happened. He never mentioned it, and neither did I. Over time, the arguments got worse and so did the severity of the physical attacks, but by then, I had become so fulfilled with my job, my children and another man outside of my marriage. He rarely got the chance to choke me that often because I made it a point NOT to be at home when he was there most of the time. Well, except for the one time that we got into an argument about an inappropriate emails he receieved from his exes. Don’t get me wrong, I really wasn’t even bothered about the emails because I had my own personal indiscretions going on. I just didn’t appreciate the fact that he was lying about the emails from the chicks. And I suggested he just be a man about it and come clean. I guess he took that statement as an insult to his manhood and he felt the need to show me exactly how much of a man he was because he hit me so hard that I blacked out and when I came to, I had a broken jaw, a fractured occipital bone and a black eye. My jaw was wired for two months. I didn’t press charges, I didnt even realize that mental and physical anguish had become my new normal. So, I pressed forward and I stayed. I stayed because I became complacent and comfortable living in chaos and disfunction. I stayed because so many people, including family, said that no one would marry me because I already had children out of wedlock and I proved them wrong. I stayed because I felt that I it was my fault for marrying him, knowing that I never should have. I stayed because I was codependent and needed him to need me. I stayed because I thought if I prayed long enough and hard enough, I could make it work. I stayed because at that time, I didn’t have the strength mentally, emotionally or physically to leave. #whyileft… Throughout the marriage, actually, well before we said “I Do” I knew that he had been unfaithful. Time and time again, I caught him cheating without him even knowing. Telephone numbers, voicemails, sightings, the lies, the games he played, it became a hobby to me. It was fun to ask him questions I already knew the answers to and listen to him lie over and over again. It no longer hurt me to find out. I then realized that the reason I didnt care, was because I no longer loved him. In January of the second year of the abuse, I told him I thought we needed counselling because this was no longer working for me. He refused and I told him that I was leaving. He laughed at me and said I wasn’t going anywhere. Every week, for nearly six months, as I watched him get dressed up to go out with other women, I would casually remind him that I was leaving and he would laugh. For some reason, his doubting did something in me. It angered me to know that instead of him caring that I even wanted to leave, just the thought of me wanting to leave amused him. I realized that I was nothing but a joke to him. Not only had I become the punching bag to take his frustrations about life, his other women and any other reason he found necessary. The first Saturday in June, 2005, he left early to play softball. I hurriedly went and picked up a Uhaul I reserved and pulled it up to the front door of our home. I loaded up my clothes, the kids clothes and toys, my desk and my computer. I left everything else exactly where it was. It took him two days to realize that we were gone. When he called demanding to know where the kids and I were, I laughed and told him, “We are home.” He responded with, “I’m at home. I’m standing in the kitchen and you’re not here!” I simply laughed and told him, “That’s no longer our home. We don’t live there anymore.” I left because I was sick and tired of being sick and tired. I left because I knew that I was worth more than what I was dealing with and deserved better. I left because I realized that my daughters were now witnessing and had a front row seat to what terror looked like. I left because even though he refused to go to counselling, I went by myself and got the mental and psychological help that I needed. I left because my cousin Marshall cared enough to tell me that I was too smart not to realize it was beyond time to get the hell out before I was carried out in a body bag. I left because it wasn’t about him or anybody else anymore, it was about ME. I cant tell anyone whether to stay or leave. Thats a decision one has to make on their own. However, I encourage anyone who is dealing with an abusive relationship, whether you are the abuser, or being abused, to please seek help. There are several organizations and support groups available. I love and appreciate all of you. Jilly Jill
Posted on: Thu, 11 Sep 2014 20:26:54 +0000
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